Waking Up To a Different World
by magicaldramione
Summary: Harry Potter wakes up from a coma and finds that everything is different. His girlfriend remarried, his best friends broke up, and Hermione married their enemy. The worst part is: his son seems to hate him.
1. Chapter 1

_**DISCLAIMER:**__ The following story is based on situations and characters from the Harry Potter books which are created and owned by J. K. Rowling, and various other publishers, including, but not limited to Warner Bros., Inc., Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, and Raincoat Books. No use other than entertainment is intended and no financial gain is being made. No trademark or copyright infringement is intended._

_This is my second Dramione fic, while I'm still writing Overjoyed and will be posting the second chapter today, I had this idea and couldn't stop myself. It came to me while watching the film Memento. It's not like the film but it gave me the idea so I decided to credit it. I hope you enjoy the read._

Chapter 1

Harry Potter didn't know what was going on. The last thing he could remember was working on a case for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Now, he was lying in a hospital bed across from a teenage couple sitting on the table by the window. They hadn't noticed Harry still, so he decided the best move was to stay quite.

"I don't know, James, it doesn't seem to me that you thought this through," the young girl spoke up. She looked to be about sixteen, with long, impossibly straight hair and a fair complexion. She reminded Harry of someone, he just couldn't place whom.

"Yes I have, that's the thing. Mum thinks it's a bad idea, but-" the young man was cut off by the girl, who placed her hands atop his.

"Maybe you should listen to her. She has a say in this too, y'know," her voice was gentle and if Harry wasn't mistaken he could have sworn he heard that voice before, with even the same worrying tone.

"She doesn't know what will make her happy. She needs to move on, she's letting him control her life. He's barely alive!" Harry could tell the young man was troubled by the conversation. He took his hands out of the grasp the girl kept it in. He stood up and looked like he was going to expel out a few choice words when he eyed Harry with a face of utter shock.

The young blonde girl stood up from her seat, "James, what's wro-," she never finished her sentence because as she turned her head she stared into the green eyes of Harry Potter, the man she heard so much about. She couldn't remember a time when her life wasn't filled with visits to St. Mungo's to see the powerful wizard.

Green eyes met grey. Harry figured out exactly whom she looked like. The bleach blonde hair, the absorbing grey eyes that seemed to pull you in, and the pale skin tone. All were characteristics of a boy he had known back in school. The physiognomy was of one Draco Malfoy. Beside the Malfoy look alike with the perplexed expression was the face of a young man who looked like a younger version of Harry himself.

The boy, James, looked positively petrified and speechless. After what seemed like minutes, James spoke up, "dad?"

Lyra was confused. This could not be happening. It was just impossible. There was no logical reason for this to be happening. And if anyone were to describe Lyra, they would use the words logical, practical, and rational. It just didn't make sense!

She was just visiting with James, like she did every summer, Wednesday morning since they had started school. He had wanted to talk. It wasn't a peculiar request; they had been dating for three years now. He began talking about his seventeenth birthday; it was coming up in the next week. He would be able to touch all the money in his trust fund. But, James didn't care about the money at all. He never had. It was the power he held over his father's hospital stay that persuaded the conversation. Lyra had known he couldn't stand to see his mother suffer. Her aunt Ginny had visited the comatose patient every week, twice a week. She had remarried thirteen years prior. She had had another two children. She was happy; at least she was trying to be. Lyra knew the older witch still hoped her former boyfriend would wake up from the coma, not to be with her, but to meet his one and only son. Ginny's heart was broken by the fact that James never heard his father's voice.

James on the other hand didn't care. His uncles and stepfather had raised him. He considered his half siblings the same way Lyra considered her siblings. He loved Oliver and Prim; they loved him back. He was happy, if one didn't consider the fact of his mother's anguish. Lyra had never seen someone love his or her mother the way James loved Ginny. Not even her father, who would do undeniably anything for Lyra's grandmother. Lyra loved that about James, she always had. She, however, could not agree with his plan to sign the papers for the dismissal of Harry's magical life care. He wanted to keep it all a secret, let his mom heal, and as much as Lyra wanted to see the aunt Ginny her mom always talked about from way back when, she couldn't go along with the plan; it was not just.

One could say the young witch was astonished when she looked in the direction James was gazing at. She had never seen his eyes. She knew so much about the man she was regarding; yet she had never seen his penetrating green eyes in person. Like his mother, James had brown eyes, which was the only thing that didn't remind people of the great Harry Potter when looking at James. He hated it, being compared to his father. There was no limit to the rage he felt when people compared him to his father. There was also no limit to the delight he felt when people looked at his eyes and said they were his mother's. Lyra knew all of this; she had known the young wizard all her life. They were raised together. However, she couldn't stop herself from staring at his father, wide eyed as he was. She didn't stop staring. Not when James asked the question. Not when Harry Potter gave a look of nervousness. Not when her boyfriend left the room shouting for a mediwitch. She only allowed herself to stop staring at the man she thought to be brain dead when one of the mediwitches closed the door in front of her. Not until she was left alone in the corridor of the private wing staring at a white wooden door, stunned by everything that had transpired in their second Wednesday visit to St. Mungo's that year.

The brunette clearly stood out from the other people in St. Mungo's. She wore a white, high-neck, silk blouse, an ecru, neoprene, knee-length, flared skirt and black kid leather pumps with a pointed toe. Her beautiful, a little past the shoulders, slick brown hair was tied in a low pony tail. To everyone that looked at her, she was the definition of poise. And everyone was, indeed, looking at her. It was no shocker that Hermione Granger would be at St. Mungo's in the middle of the week, if it were any other day of the week. Everyone knew if it were summer, on a Wednesday, the only two people that visited Harry Potter was his son, James Potter and the young man's girlfriend, Lyra. Something must have happened for the war heroine, Hermione Granger, to take time out of her busy schedule to come to St. Mungo's. Especially since, whenever Hermione did visit, her husband or children always accompanied her. Not to mention the fact that it was rare for the witch to not come in the evening, she was a busy woman after all.

Hermione was livid; James had called her mobile in the middle of a meeting. She had had to explain to several elderly wizards what a mobile was. No need to say the meeting went to hell. She was definitely going to have a talking to with her godson. It was an unspoken rule that James and Lyra were the only ones to come to St. Mungo's on Wednesdays. Of course, whenever James and Lyra had an argument, James would call Hermione to pick her up. Although they were a loving couple, visiting his father always upset James. If Lyra weren't in an especially good mood, the young witch would most definitely yell at James for being insensitive to his father.

There was no question that Hermione's daughter admired the comatose wizard. She had a copious amount of books that told the story of Harry Potter. Lyra also loved hearing tales about the man she thought of as an uncle. She also knew not to ask for the stories and just listen when others talked about him. Harry Potter was a delicate subject among the grown ups Lyra surrounded herself with. The people that could tell her anything were brought to tears at the mention of the hero. While the ones that kept dry eyes, didn't know much about the real Harry to tell her anything.

Needless to say Lyra didn't appreciate when James spoke ill of his father. Hermione had picked her up from St. Mungo's countless times to know that. Though they always made up, the older witch knew James had been planning something that had to do with Harry. She could even picture her daughter waiting for her, tears in her eyes, mumbling nonsense about James.

The first person Hermione saw, however, was James. He looked pale, paler even than Lyra. He was sitting down on a chair in the waiting room. He looked ill. Hermione looked around for Lyra, but didn't see her husband's family's trademark blonde hair anywhere in the waiting room she knew all too well. It was a private waiting room in the secluded wing. The wing's only patient: Harry Potter.

"James, where's Lyra?" the witch questioned when she was sure she was close enough for him to hear the inquiry.

The young boy looked in the direction of his godmother's voice. He had been blankly staring at the white wall on the other side of the room for twenty minutes or so. When he turned, Hermione saw the empty look on his face; her heart broke. It must have been one hell of a fight. He opened his mouth to speak and the words came out dry, "I don't know. I think she's still in the room. I couldn't bring myself to go back there. I'm sorry aunt 'Mione, I just couldn't do it." With that, he went back to staring at the wall.

_One hell of a fight, all right, _Hermione thought. She sat down next to James and began speaking, "what was it this time? Did she try to fix his hair again? You know she can't help herself. She can't stand messy hair; you of all people know that. She is her father's daughter after all…" Hermione smiled. If there were two people that loved their hair more than life itself, those two people were her husband and their eldest child.

"He woke up," James said softly. Hermione was about to ask who had woken up when she froze. It couldn't be. She was sure she had heard him wrong. He had said the sentence so quietly after all. But, deep down, she knew that wasn't true. There was only one thing that could upset James this much. And, that thing, or more appropriately person, was his father and Hermione's childhood best friend, the great Harry Potter. The older witch was speechless. Her best friend had woken up after seventeen years in a coma. It was practically impossible. But, that was Harry. He did the impossible blindfolded. She looked over to the unmoving boy beside her. That's when she realized her daughter was still in the room. Kissing the top of James' head, Hermione hurried to the hospital room with the hope of seeing the fascinating green eyes she hadn't seen in years.

_Thank you immensely for reading this fic. Reviews are appreciated. 3_

_~Maria :D_


	2. Chapter 2

_**DISCLAIMER:**__ The following story is based on situations and characters from the Harry Potter books which are created and owned by J. K. Rowling, and various other publishers, including, but not limited to Warner Bros., Inc., Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, and Raincoat Books. No use other than entertainment is intended and no financial gain is being made. No trademark or copyright infringement is intended._

_Thank you all for the kind words directed towards the story! I know last chapter was short, but this one is longer and will most likely be the normal length of upcoming chapters. _

_Draco is coming in this chapter and so are other next generation characters. All of them made up by me. There are mentions of sort of canon ones too (Scorp!) _

_Enjoy! :D_

* * *

_He woke up._

The words echoed through Hermione's head while she made her way to Harry's room. She tried to concentrate on finding Lyra. Hermione needed to be there for her daughter. Yet, she couldn't. Everything was blurry. Memories were rushing through her head.

The first time she met Harry onboard the Hogwarts Express. Being rescued my Harry and Ron in the girl's bathroom. Going Horcruxes hunting in their seventh year.

Then, the last time she saw him awake. The memory she always tried to forget. All the yelling; all the tears. Everything she regretted doing in the seventeen years he'd been in a coma. She remembered being on the verge of hexing her best friend for being so stupid. Worst of all, she remembered the desolate look in his eyes when she opened the door and told him the words she would come to regret the most, 'get out, Harry!'

Hermione opened her eyes and realized she was leaning against the wall of the deserted corridor for support. She straightened herself up, and looked to the door at the end of the hall, finally noticing the figure standing exactly in front of the white wooden door. "Lyra," Hermione whispered.

It was easy to spot her daughter. She had the fairest blonde hair in all of England, thanks to the girl's father's gene pool. It was also easy because her daughter had a thing for wearing Muggle fashion. She had on a white top with two raccoons printed on it; neutral colored, flared, silk-chiffon shorts; lace-up, brown Oxford shoes and hand knitted cream long socks. The older witch took a deep breath and slowly began approaching the young girl.

* * *

Lyra heard the footsteps before she felt her mother wrapping an arm around her. She wasn't certain how long she had been staring at the door, but it must have been long since her mother was now with her. No one had come through the door yet; she couldn't hear anything from the outside due to the silencing charms in the room. She wasn't sure what to do; wasn't sure if her mother knew. But Lyra couldn't trust her voice to say the words. It was impossible and she wouldn't say anything until someone explained how this could be.

The blonde girl could feel her mother's tears damping her hair, letting Lyra know someone told her of the afternoon's occurrence. Lyra turned around in her mother's embrace; facing the woman she loved so much. Though Lyra was three inches taller than her mother, her refusal to wear high heels made her look shorter at that particular moment. The abnormal and current height difference made her feel safe in her mother's arms. "Let's get you out of here darling," Hermione said tenderly. "You should floo home, Scorpius is there. He said he had a new potions set and wanted you to help him assemble it."

Lyra looked her mother in the eye and Hermione rapidly looked down. Lyra was bright; there was no question. But as Hermione was not good at flying, Lyra was horrid at potions. From her first day in the class, Lyra knew she hadn't inherited her father's knack for the subject. The witch didn't mind. She excelled at everything else at Hogwarts. She had a special talent for Charms and Transfiguration. Although, she sometimes found herself wondering why she hadn't gotten the skill for Potions from her father as her younger brother had. Either way, there was no way Scorpius would ever ask for her help in Potions. He was extremely proud and rarely asked for help. She waited until her mother looked up again and gave her an 'I'm not leaving here until someone explains what the hell is happening' look.

Hermione smiled, although Lyra was sorted into Ravenclaw, she had a lot of Gryffindor in her. She also had a lot of Slytherin running through her veins and Hermione knew the young girl was manipulative enough to get what she wanted if she was forced to leave. That is when the brunette realized how much her life had changed while Harry slept.

She decided to end things with Ron, who seemed rather relieved, and stay single for a while. She wanted to find her parents in Australia and although she failed to do so, Hermione reconnected with an old classmate while in the country and soon the two were in a relationship. Everything happened very fast. He asked her to marry him while they were celebrating their sixth month anniversary. The witch was reluctant at first, but he realized why she was hesitant and they talked it through. They were married three months later, on the nineteenth of January 2002.

Leading her daughter to the waiting room, Hermione wondered what Harry would say about her life. Then, realized she would find out soon enough. _He will probably spill out a few choice words when he realizes who I married_, Hermione thought.

* * *

His father had the most piercing green eyes he had ever seen. Of course many people had told him so, but James had never seen it other than in pictures. Those eyes and the confused look on his face when James had called the wizard 'dad' were all James could think about. If he closed his eyes, he would imagine it. If he opened them, he would see an afterimage of it. He couldn't escape.

He was wrapped up in his own dilemma of a father suddenly waking up from a coma, that he didn't see his godmother and her daughter approaching. He only noticed them when Hermione sat beside him and Lyra beside her mom. The young man then realized how selfish he was being. It must have been a shock for Lyra to see his father and James hadn't even thought of seeing if she was all right.

Turning to the girl in question, who had her head resting on her mom's shoulders, he said, "Lyra, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

James was cut off when Lyra shot her head up with a confused look on her face. "James, why on Merlin's name would you be sorry?" the girl asked as if the idea of him apologizing were incredulous.

"I left you all alone. I should have gone back there, to see if you were okay."

Lyra then got up and sat on the other side of James. His eyes followed her, not sure what was going to happen. "Don't even try to apologize to me, James Potter. You have every right to be shocked and not want to go back there. This is a very unusual situation we are in, but that does not mean I don't understand that you are hurting. I have known you all my life. I knew you when people called you Jaime. I knew you when you asked dad to build you a tree house, even though dad didn't know what a tree house was. Thus, I know how sensitive you are when it comes to your father and I know that him waking up was never a part of your plans."

James smiled. He should have known she weren't going to be upset. He still felt bad about leaving her, but at least he knew she was fine, considering the circumstances. Lyra lunged herself at him. She hugged him as if she weren't going to let him go. He liked when she hugged like this. He could take in the scent of her hair, of apricots and almonds. James always felt at his best when Lyra was hugging him. She was his best friend. She had always been. She will always be his best friend. He couldn't begin to imagine what it would have been like to be there when his dad woke up without Lyra. Thank Merlin he didn't have to.

* * *

Lyra's speech had Hermione thinking. Thoughts about her wedding, her marriage, her kids. She remembered when James was seven and had gone with Hermione's family to the witch's family reunion. The reunion was held at her uncle's home in Plymouth. James had been captivated by the tree house in the backyard. It was all he could talk about. When they had gotten home, all James could talk about was how awesome it was to play on the tree house. James even dared to ask her pureblooded husband to build one for Lyra, which was the excuse he used. Her husband had stayed inside her uncle's home for most of the reunion and did not know what a tree house was, much less how to build one.

The young boy was so persistent, her husband even attempted to build one with the boy's stepdad. _Attempted_ being the right word since the two wizards gave up after trying for a day. She hadn't thought about those memories in so long. She guessed she didn't need to; she made new happy memories with her family. In fact, they were all happy in some way or another. And, whether she liked it or not, Harry waking up was going to change things around her. She wasn't sure if it was for the better or worse. But, she had to be optimistic. She had to hope Harry would accept his friend's lives. Even though all their lives had changed drastically since Harry was last up and awake. Rubbing her face with her hands, Hermione didn't notice the healer approaching the three of them.

* * *

"… And, that is why you are going to be in Slytherin with us, Zane," said Hugh Zabini smirking. The boy had been trying to convince his best friend, Zane Weasley, that he wasn't going to end up in Gryffindor.

"How can you be sure though?" asked the skeptical Zane, shifting in his seat.

"That's simple: I would never be best friends with a Grynffindork," replied the smiling boy.

"Is that supposed to be funny, Zabini? Because, last I recall, my mother, the brightest witch of her age, was a Gryffindor." The remark came from the other side of the room. The boys knew the voice well; Iris was their best friend after all. But, they still felt chills down their arms when she spoke. You should never insinuate anything bad about her family, especially not her mom.

"I guess it is unnecessary to point out you are going to be a Slytherin, too, right, Iris?" inquired Hugh, already knowing the answer.

The three kids had grown up together. They knew everything about each other. The boys knew Iris hated to be called Rainbow, a nickname given to her by her older brother. They knew she hated the color pink, that she loved dragons, and that her favorite flowers were white tulips. They also knew if one were to cross the young witch, they would be in deep trouble. She might not be a prankster like her older brother and co., but she always found a way to take vengeance on those who have wronged her and the ones she holds most dear. Scorpius' pranks were predictable. Iris' revenge plans took time to take place, but the result always had the mark begging for her forgiveness. A true Slytherin; that Iris.

Needless to say, Hugh was in no place to be insulting her mother. "I'm just saying, not all Grynffindors are as amazing as aunt Hermione."

Iris smiled, she loved making Hugh shake in his boots. True, she was known for taking revenge on everyone that dared to cross the eleven-year-old, but Hugh and Zane were different. They were like her brothers. She was closer to them than she was with her own brother. Not to say she and Scorpius didn't get along, they did. Her brother wasn't the brainless prankster everyone pegged him out to be. He was the most intelligent in his year, well with the exception of Oliver Nott of course. But, Iris and her best friends shared a special bond. They were all four months apart. Hugh was the oldest, being born in May. Iris came second; she was born in June. Zane was the youngest; his birthday was coming up in August. They were all to attend Hogwarts together. The only one with a doubt they were all going to end up in Slytherin, was Zane.

Timidly, the black-haired boy said, "I'll be the first Weasley to ever end up in Slytherin. I'm not even sure that's allowed!"

"For Merlin's sake, Zane!" started Zabini, already tired of the conversation, "There's no way any of us won't end up in Slytherin." Pointing at Iris, he began, "Iris is the most terrifying person in this whole planet!" pointing to himself, he continued, "I'm the most cunning. And, well, Weasley, you are the kind of person born to be a Slytherin. You may be shy, but you aren't the type of wizard to go save everyone else. No, you are the type of bloke that takes care of his friends. You are loyal to the ones you love and would never betray us."

The little outburst caused Zane to smile. Being a Weasley, he was expected to turn out just like his father. He was supposed to be brave. But, that wasn't what happened. People always pointed out how much like his mother he was; both in looks and personality. Short from his blue eyes, Zane looked exactly like Pansy. And, although, he didn't spill out insults every time he saw a non-pureblood, he still acted like his mom. Though, he had to give his mom credit. She had changed from the girl in the stories his uncle Draco told to the woman his father married.

Before he could thank his friend, however, a fair-haired wizard ran into the room.

"Iris, we have to go now. We are needed at the hospital." Before the young witch could protest, her father grasped her hand and side-apparated them to St. Mungo's, leaving both Weasley and Zabini appropriately confused.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was a rational man. Well, Draco Malfoy was capable of being a rational man as long as it did not involve Hermione Granger and the rest of his family. He hadn't thought past getting Iris and apparating to St. Mungo's. He should have. Because he wasn't sure what to do when he appeared in Harry Potter's room, face to face with a dozen healers and mediwitches. Draco couldn't remember the last time he saw a healer in Potter's room. He had been in a coma for seventeen years after all. There was not much to do.

They all stared at him in confusion, as if wondering why he was there. He was beginning to wonder that himself since he didn't know why James would've called him. Everyone knew Draco had trouble managing the mobile device he had gotten from Hermione last Christmas. She had said it was for emergencies. Today was the first time anyone called it. Knowing James was visiting Harry in St. Mungo's with Lyra, Draco had only one thought in his head: save James and his daughter from danger. Of course, he didn't think it through. How much danger can those two really get into in such a secure facility? And, if there were danger, why would he bring Iris into the line of fire?

He looked down at his disoriented daughter. She looked so much like her mother. Iris had brown hair just like Hermione, though it wasn't a big ball of frizz as her mother's had been at that age. Iris' hair was wavy, and always under control. The young girl also had grey eyes, just not as sharp as her father's and her older sister's. The grey eyes were one thing all the Malfoy kids had in common. Other than that, the girl was a mini Hermione. Bright and bossy, though manipulative like her father.

"Mr. Malfoy, may we be of any assitance?" inquired one of the older healers.

Looking at the healer in question, Malfoy spoke up, "I received a… message… advising myself to come here. I am assuming something happened since all of you are in Potter's room." The wizards and witches nodded in return, causing Draco to fear what happened, "was it James? Lyra? Hermione?" Thinking for a second, the wizard questioned again, "was it Ginny? Is she okay? What happened to her?"

One of the mediwitches stepped up, "Mr. Malfoy everything is in order. Everyone you questioned about is perfectly fine. I suggest you and your daughter go to the waiting room where your finally is."

The witch didn't leave any space for Draco to argue, not that he would. He wanted to see his wife and daughter, and make sure they were safe. Nodding, he took Iris' hand once again and left the room.

* * *

Walking alongside her father in the long corridor door, Iris asked, "Is everything okay with Mr. Potter?" Her father gave her a confused look, so she decided to explain herself; "there are never healers in Mr. Potter's room. You said yourself he would never wake up. Why would there be healers in his room then?" Draco shrugged, not knowing what to say. Iris thought it was best not to mention the fact that she saw green eyes looking down at her; eyes that were definitely not of healers or mediwitches. Eyes she had only imagined from the descriptions she had been given while growing up.

* * *

Harry wasn't sure what was going on. The healers and mediwitches rushed in out of nowhere and dragged the Lyra girl out. She didn't stop staring at him until they close the door.

The mediwitches and healers took out their wands and started examining him. One of them even gave him a potion. He hadn't known what it was for until he imagined an older version of Draco Malfoy asking about Hermione and Ginny. The potion must have been strong since he even imagined a little girl that reminded him of Hermione. Of course none of it made sense. Especially since the little girl had grey eyes. Harry started to feel dizzy and then everything went black.

* * *

"Mum!" shouted Iris when she spotted Hermione. The young girl ran full force towards her mother. The older witch looked up and saw her daughter running towards her. When Iris reached her, Hermione engulfed the girl in a big bear hug, while patting the girl's head and looking ahead at the worried face of her husband.

After hugging her daughter for two whole minutes, Hermione let go. She had to tell Draco what was going on. She told Iris to stay with Lyra and James while she talked to Draco. Then, the witch got up and walked up to her husband. He immediately hugged her tight. She loved his hugs. He always hugged her like it was going to be the last time he did so. It felt so intimate.

"Everything is going to be okay, love," whispered Draco in her ear, over and over again.

Getting out of his embrace and taking a step away from him, Hermione looked down and said, "If you only knew what was happening… you wouldn't be saying that."

Draco took a step forward, closing the gap between them. He gently touched her chin and made her look him in the eyes, "I don't need to know what's going on here. All I need to know is that you aren't okay right now, so I'm going to do everything in my power to make it better." Draco then kissed her forehead and hugged her again.

"I think you already have," she replied smiling. She really couldn't ask for a better husband. She was sure a better husband didn't exist. Stepping away from his embrac, she took his hands in hers and led him away from the waiting room onto an empty room where they could talk.

* * *

Iris sat next to her older sister. She knew something was wrong; her father was worried about something, even though Iris knew he didn't know what it was. James, Lyra, and her mother, however, knew what was going on. Iris was sure of it. She was also sure they weren't going to just tell her. Therefore, she had to use the manipulative skills she had gotten from her father's side of the family. It wasn't going to be particularly hard. She was to be a Slyterin afterall. She could easily manipulate a Gryffidor and a Ravenclaw to tell her what she wanted to know.

Looking up at her sister, Iris began acting out her plan, "do you think mum and dad are fighting?" She knew her parents' relationship had nothing to do with their visit to St. Mungo's, particularly not on a Wednesday. It was, however, how she was going to get information from the two teenagers.

James got up from his sit and knelt before her, "hey, kid, there's noth-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Lyra spoke up, "Don't, James." The wizard looked up at her, clearly confused, "she's just trying to get us to tell her what's going on. She doesn't think mum and dad are fighting, but she knows that you will tell her anything so she doesn't think so." Looking at her sister furiously, she added, "Didn't anyone ever tell you she is already a Slytherin through and through? All she needs is to be sorted."

Iris smiled, she had underestimated her beloved older sister. She was as bright as their mom. "Fine, Lyra, you caught me. But, can I guess to what happened? I mean I did see something rather curious."

"And, dear little sister, what would that be?" Lyra asked, not expecting much.

"Just the mesmering green eyes of one Harry James Potter."

* * *

"How?" asked Draco, suspicious. "He was declared brain dead."

Hermione had just told him of the day's ocurrences. She looked around nervously, she never liked when people said that about her best friend, "we assumed he was… brain dead. No one actually ran tests or anything."

After a long pause, Draco inquired, "what about Ginny?"

Ginny. Hermione hadn't even thought of Ginny. How could she have been so selfish? Of all the people that should be thought about when Harry woke up, Ginny should have been the first. _Oh, I'm such a horrid friend,_ thought Hermione.

Draco put his hands atop hers, "Hermione, don't. I know what you are thinking and don't. You are a great friend to Ginny. It's okay to not have thought of her."

Hermione knew he was trying to comfort her, but it didn't work. "You did," the brunette pointed out.

"Ginny is my best friend, Hermione. Besides, Potter wasn't my best friend. You are in this deeper than I am. It's natural for you to wonder about him instead of Ginny."

Now, that comforted the witch. Smiling, she said, "I did think about him. About what… what… oh, nevermind, it's rubbish."

Draco moved in his seat. He knew exactly what she thought about. And even though he didn't want to admit it, he knew it was the truth. Harry waking up would change a lot of lives, principally his. "You thought about what he'll say once he realizes that you married a Deatheater."

* * *

_Thank you so much for reading!_

_Ginny is coming in the next episode! _

_Reviews are greatly appreciated! _

_xx_

_~Maria :D_


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione was stunned. She knew her husband never forgave himself for what he did in his teenage years, even though it was for his and his mother's survival. What she was not aware of, however, was that he still looked at himself as a Deatheater. He looked heartbroken. Draco was looking at her intensely and Hermione realized she hadn't said anything in a while.

"Please, don't say that," she began; Hermione couldn't bear for her husband to think so badly of himself. "You're not a Deathe-"

"OF COURSE I AM!" Draco retorted, quickly getting up from the chair he was sitting on, "once a Deatheater, Hermione, always a Deatheater."

He was pacing around. He looked so worried; afraid even. Hermione would pay all her money to figure out what he was thinking. She looked down, "do you really think I would fall in love with a Deatheater?"

He stared at her, "no, that's my fear. I'm afraid you will realize your mistake when he talks to you. That you'll realize how you should've married a good man; one worthy of a third of the Golden Trio."

His words hurt her, like she hadn't been this hurt for years. How could he have so little faith in their relationship? They were married for Merlin's sake! Sixteen years of marriage and four kids later and he still felt insecure about their love? Hermione just couldn't understand it. She got up from her chair, walked to the door in the small, grey room and opened it. "Answer me this: do you truly believe a Deatheater would be capable of loving me?" With those words she left.

* * *

Lyra could not believe it! Her little sister was devilish. She always had something up her sleeve. Of course, Iris wouldn't just stop asking when Lyra stopped her from manipulating James. The eleven-year-old always had a plan B. And, Lyra had fallen for it.

"I think you've made a mistake, Iris," started James, not wanting to explain what happened. Lyra knew he wasn't even sure of what happened.

"Oh James, _you_ must be mistaken, I saw it with my own grey eyes. Harry Potter staring at me. Isn't it mind-boggling? A comatose man with his eyes open. Curious. Tell me, dear sister, is that supposed to happen?" Iris smirked. Lyra frowned. Her younger sister was far too good at the playing naïve bit. It was indeed her favorite. She used on their dad all the time. It almost always worked.

Before Lyra could reply to Iris, a man walked in the waiting room. A tall, brown-haired wizard, wearing a button down white shirt and black slacks, Theodore Nott slowly walked up to them.

"Uncle Theo whatever are you doing here?" asked Iris, feigning innocence.

"I am wondering the same, Iris. Should you not be at the Weasley's?" inquired Nott, calmly.

"My father brought me, of course. He thought I was needed at this particular occasion," was the young witch's reply. Lyra rolled her eyes. Iris was digging a hole she couldn't get out of. No one could manipulate Theodore Nott. No one. It was impossible. It was a known wonder of anyone near Nott that he was a Legilimens. It would explain why he knew everything that happened to anyone, though he could never know what was going on with Lyra's dad, as Draco was an Occlumens. It would also explicate why Theo was Harry Potter's healer. He was supposed to figure out what was going through Mr. Potter's mind to try to heal him. At least that was what Lyra had overheard Scorpius and Oliver saying. Though, the young boys were hardly legitimate sources.

"If you are here, it means your father was not aware of the situation. Don't take me for a fool, Iris. You know very well I am not a fool," Iris blushed, only for a second. Her Godfather was the only person to ever beat her at mind games. Others were not cunning enough and those that were, mainly her parents, always fell for the innocent act. "Lyra, where are your parents?"

"I'm right here, Theo," said Hermione coming into view. Lyra noticed she was alone, that never being a good sign. Sensing her older daughter's worry, Hermione added, "Draco will be here shortly. How are you?"

"I am well, I should go into his room to see if everything is alright. It is technically my job."

"I thought you weren't father's healer anymore," said James, speaking up after being silent for so long.

Theo sighed. Lyra knew how hard this was for him. The healers had given up. They had given Theo other patients. He was finally moving on. That was until Harry Potter woke up. One could easily tell her uncle was not sure what to make of the situation. "Well, no one is Mr. Potter's healer at the moment. Everyone had… umm…"

"Given up?" asked James. Theo looked apprehensive, as if he didn't want to have this conversation, especially not with James. "Don't worry, I had, too. But, of course he found another way of bringing me back to being his son and nothing more. I'm almost seventeen. I'm supposed to lead a normal life. Go to Hogwarts and worry about what my marks will be. I'm supposed to enjoy my weekends, not have special permission from the headmistress to go see my comatose father. I'm supposed to go on dates with my girlfriend in Hogsmeade, not talk to a man in a hospital bed! This is not a normal life. I was finally moving on, finally becoming my own person. People were starting to recognize me as James Potter, not as his son! But, what now? Do I just go back to being his son? I can already see the headlines "The Great Savior and his son." I'm tired of being 'and his son.'"

Everyone was quite. No one dared to speak. Not even Iris. She always sympathized with James. Yes, he was easily manipulated, but he was also very bright when it came to life matters. She felt a very strong connection to the young man. And, although, she acted like she despised her sister, she was extremely happy when the two begin to date. If they got married, he would be part of her family, finally.

"Now is not the time, James," a chilling voice said. They all recognized the voice; it was Draco. "I understand you are hurt, but if you are to act like a child, then go home. This is an adult matter, if you cannot act like an adult, you may leave with Lyra and Iris." The last comment caused both young girls to stand up rapidly from their chairs.

"Why do we have to leave?" asked an indignant Lyra.

Draco stepped forward, but Lyra noticed he didn't go near Hermione, preferring to stay close to Theo, who looked distraught by the whole predicament. Something was definitely wrong with her parents. "I am certain you heard me, Lyra. I do not see the need to repeat myself." _Adult matters, _she remembered her father saying; she was to leave because she was too young? She was almost sixteen for Merlin's sake! If anyone had to leave, it was Iris not Lyra. She was about to make her argument when her father gave her a stern look. She knew what it said. It said _'I do not have time for your childish behaviors, Lyra. You will leave whether you want to or not.' _ She understood that there was no point arguing.

"Where shall I go? No one is home." Asked the blonde, keeping her head down.

"You will go to Hogsmeade, spend the night at Alice's, I'm sure Neville and Hannah won't mind."

"Yes, of course, father." Lyra leaned down and gave James a peck on the cheek. She then hugged her mother and kissed her father goodbye. Nodding to both Theo and Iris, she walked out of the waiting room towards the fireplaces.

* * *

"Where am I to go then?" asked Iris, crossing her arms. There was no way she was going to leave. She had to be where the action was.

"Do not even think you are staying, Iris. I am going to take you back to the Weasley's and you will stay there." Replied her father, sternly.

"That is hardly fair!" cried Iris, ready to put up a fight. She was not Lyra. She was not going to just leave as if Harry Potter had not just woken up.

"I do not remember asking. All I remember is telling you where you are going," continued Draco, ignoring his daughter's pleas. Turning to James, he added, "Are you going to behave like an adult?" James slowly nodded, afraid to speak. Something was definitely wrong for Draco to act this way, something other than James' father waking up. "Very well, you are to stay here until Theo, and only Theo, invites you to go in the room. _If, _he invites you to go in the room. Understand?" Once again James nodded.

Theo turned to Draco, "what are you going to do?"

"I will take Iris back to the Weasley's and talk to Ron."

James found the courage to speak up, "you are going to my house, right? To tell mom." He glanced at Theo and then back at Draco and whispered, "you are the only one that can tell her. I don't think anyone else should."

Draco nodded, "that is my plan. Scorpius and Oliver are with Fred and Louis at Shell Cottage. I'll take Prim is at the Burrow?" asked Draco knowing the young girl was very fond of her maternal grandmother, Theo nodded. "I'll speak with Red. Don't worry, I won't let her come here before she's ready."

"Make sure she doesn't have her wand with her, she'll hex you and apparate out if she does," said Hermione quietly. If this were any other situation, everyone would have laughed, but Hermione wasn't joking. She wouldn't have in such setting. And, although, she was hurt Draco thought so little of their relationship, she worried about her husband. She loved him, after all.

"I will," the man said, gripping Iris' hand. The last thing Iris remembered was that her father didn't bid her mother goodbye. They had hardly looked at each other. She feared the awakening of the wizarding world's savior might have done some damage to her parents' relationship. She wished she hadn't used a fake fight between her parents to trap James into telling her what happened. In fact, she deeply regretted it.

* * *

Draco had simply left, without another word. He answered the Muggle device and something made him leave. He went as far as take Iris with him. Whatever it was, it couldn't have been that bad, Pansy thought, he wouldn't put Iris in danger. He also wouldn't want the cunning young girl to find out whatever it was that caused him to leave; unless it was nothing serious.

Ultimately, Pansy decided everything was fine. There was no need for her to worry. That was until Draco apparated in front of her with a worried expression, asking for Ron. She told Draco he was taking a shower since Ron had just gotten back from Quidditch practice. The blond then told his daughter to go look for Zane and Hugh and then sat down.

Sitting down across from him, Pansy began, "what's the matter Draco? Why do you need to see Ron? What happened?"

Draco sighed running a hand through his hair and then rubbing his face with his hands, "just wait for Ron, alright? I'll explain everything, just wait for him." Pansy nodded.

As they waited for Ron, Pansy's eldest offspring came into view, "uncle Drake! I didn't know you were visiting."

Draco smiled, he might have been in a bad mood, but he always had time for his favorite goddaughter. He got up and approached the teenager, "how are you, Amy?"

"Wonderful since you decided to visit! I thought aunt 'Mione was picking Iris up…"

"She is busy, I'm here to ask your mom if Iris can stay over for the night," said Draco, glancing at Pansy nervously.

"You know you don't have to ask, Draco. Iris is always welcome here. She's part of the family. Now, Amaryllis, please go and stay with Zane, Hugh, and Iris. I have a feeling your uncle Draco has something to tell me."

"Of course, mum. I'll keep them in line," the ginger said, laughing. Kissing her godfather's cheek, she left the room.

"She is certainly growing up, huh?" asked Draco, trying to change the subject and turning to face his childhood friend.

Sensing his discomfort, Pansy decided to play along, "yes, she certainly is. I went to a dinner this past weekend and there are talks Amaryllis will be a prefect."

"I don't see why she would not be. Her marks are wonderful. She is undoubtedly gifted in Potions. I hope one day she'll take over the company for me."

Pansy laughed, a pleasant, genuine laugh, "You don't actually think Scorp will be okay with that, do you?"

The blond chuckled; his son was indeed looking forward to being the boss, and added, "They can work together of course. They get along just fine."

"You don't think she wants to become a Quidditch player like Ron?"

"Yes, who said she wouldn't be able to do both? She is clever enough. She can play Quidditch during the season and run the company with Scorp for the rest of the year."

"You got big plans for my daughter, don't you, Malfoy?" someone said while laughing. Soon enough, Ron Weasley came into view. Wearing a pair of slack and nothing more while drying his hair with a towel.

Draco got up and held out his hand, which Ron shook, "Weasley."

"Ever so formal, Malfoy. We've known each other for years, you are my only daughter's godfather, I think we've reached first name basis, don't you?"

"Ron…" warned Pansy. She knew something was wrong with Draco, which was why he was acting so distant, even from Pansy.

"What?" Ron asked, staring at his wife. "He always calls me Ron. We're not the best of friends, but I'm sure nothing has happened that we need to regress to last names."

"That's where you are wrong, _Weasley_," retorted Draco, tired of ignoring the problem at hand.

Sensing Draco was about to tell them something very important, Pansy reached for her wand and cast a wordless silencing spell. "What's the matter, Draco?"

* * *

Draco sat down, not sure how to approach the subject. When Amaryllis had walked in, he felt as if this was a normal visit, to see how she was doing. He loved the young girl. She was like a daughter to him. He had no doubt that he wanted her to work for him in his Potions Company and eventually take over with Scorpius. Draco had it all planned out.

It had felt good to talk about the kids' future. It was normal. It was simply something he did often. Then Ron had walked in, ruining the illusion of a normal visit. It was not that he hated Ron, he really didn't. Draco had learned to be civil to the bloke when he first started dating Hermione. Of course the blond wasn't thrilled she insisted on being around her ex-boyfriend, but he let it go. Well, maybe not. Not until Ron slept with Pansy on the night of Draco's and Hermione's wedding.

The two had drunk their fair share of firewhiskey that night. Draco and Blaise had found the whole situation hilarious. Especially the two months that followed the deed. Ron and Pansy would do anything to avoid each other, to the amusement of their friends. Of course it all ended when Pansy started dating a French bloke and Ron had gone ballistic. They had been together ever since.

So, really, Draco didn't hate the man. Ron did make his friend happy. They had had three beautiful children. There was no reason for childish behavior. Well, until now. Draco was afraid; plain and simple. He was afraid Potter would show Hermione how unworthy Draco was of her. He was afraid she would run away; take the kids with her. He was also afraid that Potter would convince Ron that Pansy wasn't right for him. Even though anyone that had seen the couple together knew that they were perfect together. Pansy brought the responsible side of Ron and Ron gave Pansy the fun she was lacking. They were different, yes. But, it didn't matter. They completed each other. Even a blind idiot could sense it. Then again, Potter had been in a coma for seventeen years. They were not going to deal with a full-grown man; they were going to deal with a twenty-year old young man.

Pansy sat next to him. She must have sensed his uneasiness about the situation. "Draco, it's okay if you can't say it right now. We can eat first; we'll talk after tea. How about it, huh?"

Draco shook his head, "no! I have to tell you now, I have to go see Gin soon."

Ron turned his head to look at Draco and dropped the towel he was drying his hair with on the ground, "what's wrong with my sister?"

"Nothing is wrong with her. Not yet, anyways," said Draco.

"Malfoy, what happened?" asked Ron, afraid of what was to come.

Deciding to stop stalling and just come out with it, Draco said the words he couldn't quite believe yet, "Potter woke up."

* * *

Everyone had left. The healers. The mediwitches. Everyone. They had told Harry his healer was coming in soon. It was his day off. He felt bad his healer had to work on his day off, but he needed to know what was going on. Why did that young man call him dad? Why did he look so much like Harry? Who was that girl that reminded Harry of Draco Malfoy? And, most importantly, what the bloody hell happened?

Suddenly, the door swung open and in walked a tall, dark haired man, putting on healer robes.

He looked up at Harry with surprise in his eyes, "blimey, you really woke up." Could this be his healer? "I'm sorry, it's just. You've been here, in this bed, since I started working here. I just find it amazing, that's all. When they told me, I just couldn't believe it."

Harry stared at the man before him. He looked vaguely familiar. He also looked too old to have just started at the hospital. How long had Harry been out?

The man looked at Harry's chart and then back at Harry, "everything seems to be in order. No special reason you woke up. It seems your body was just tired of sleeping. You should regain your muscle movement soon. It will be slow, so don't expect to just start walking, but I'm sure everyone will collaborate."

Harry wanted to speak. He wanted to ask the healer who he was. He wanted to know and not be confused about everything.

"I know it is hard, Mr. Potter. It is not an everyday occurrence. Since you probably can't speak right now, I'm going to ask you a few questions and you just nod or shake your head."

Harry nodded.

"Would you like to know how long you've been out?" Nod. "You've been in a coma for seventeen years."

Harry's eyes widened. It couldn't be. It wasn't possible.

"Would you like to know who I am?" Nod. "I'm your healer. I've been your healer since you started here with the help of Healer Rogers who sadly passed away fifteen years ago. He was my mentor. I am Theodore Nott."

_Theodore Nott._ Harry knew this name. He had gone to school with the bloke. He was one of Malfoy's friends.

Nott looked as if he was about to ask another question when a mediwitch came in. "The potion is ready, sir," she said.

Theo nodded and reached for the flask she was handing to him. He then walked over to Harry and gave him the potion.

"This is a potion to help you relax your vocal cords. I'm going to ask you to answer a few simple questions." Nod.

"What is your name?"

"H-harry P-p-potteer."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty."

"What day is today, Mr. Potter?"

"29th of November, 2000."

"That is all. The potion will make you sleep for an hour now. I will be back later."

As Nott walked out the door, Harry felt dizzy again.

* * *

There was loads of yelling, most from Ron. He didn't want to admit that Draco wasn't playing a sick joke on him. Pansy had tried to calm him down while Ron tried to kill her best friend. It would've looked comical if Draco hadn't been in the middle of it.

He told the couple he was being serious. He told them Hermione was at St. Mungo's with James. That Theo was making sure of everything. He let them know he had to leave. And leave he did.

He immediately apparated to Ginny's home. He didn't have to look for the witch for too long. Though the mansion was anything but small, Draco always knew to find the redhead cooking in the kitchen. Ironically, she usually went there when the house was empty, with to cook for.

As soon as he entered the kitchen, Draco smiled. Her back was to him and she was singing. She seemed to be stirring something. Draco would bet it was dessert. She loved making dessert. Bakewell pudding for James; jam roly-poly pudding for Oliver; Battenberg cake for Prim; and banoffee pie for her husband. She even, sometimes, made his favorite, Croquembouche, on his birthday and such special occasion. It had taken her a while to get it just right. She finally did, though. Of course before accomplishing the deed, she would hex Draco anytime he complained, which was a lot. He laughed at the memory of a powerful hex she had sent him when she had been pregnant with Oliver. He never complained again.

She turned around when he laughed and he suddenly stopped. Her nose was red and her eyes full of unshed tears. He hadn't notice she had been sniffling while she sang nor did he notice how sad she had sounded. Placing the spoon she was using on the counter, she ran to give him a hug. Wrapping her arms tightly around Draco's neck, Ginny began to cry. After a few minutes of letting go of the feelings she had been keeping in, she whispered, "I know."

* * *

_**I'm sorry for the late update. I hit writer's block with this chapter. I wasn't sure how to write Ron and Amaryllis. I have a plan for her character (some parts have been written) and I wasn't sure how to write her relationship with Draco. I also have a tough time writing Ron. Mostly because of the situation I put him in this story. Married to Pansy, being civil to Draco, not pining over Hermione. I don't read many fics where Ron is not super jealous and I just don't like it. I see Ron and Hermione as being the best of friends, you know? Even if they aren't meant to be. Especially since Harry wasn't around for so many years. Not to mention I want him to be happy. With his own family. Dreaming of his oldest daughter being a Quidditch player like himself. So, I had a bit of trouble. I am having trouble overall writing the hospital scenes. I have written bits of post-hospital scenes, so the updates won't take that long after the hospital stuff is done with - which shouldn't take long. **_

_**On another note, THIS IS A DRAMIONE STORY! I am sorry if you don't ship them, but I DO! They are my OTP, I will ship them in hell. I will not change my story for the sake of a few people wanting it to be ALL about Harry. It will not happen. If you don't ship Dramione, this story is not for you. I hope you understand.**_

_**Also, Alice dear, thank you **_**_reviewing. I try to answer to all reviews (I recently discovered how), but obviously as you wrote was a guest I could not do it. Thank you for the compliments. I'm glad you like Lyra and Iris. I love writing them (not to mention my love for their names.) I will explain James' hatred for Harry soon, I already wrote the part. Just give it some time. It is a big deal. _**

**_Thank you all for reading the story. Reviews are appreciated._**

**_xx_**

**_~Maria :D_**


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